In the Comfort of Strangers
by classicjane
Summary: The company of Thorin Oakenshield come across a strange woman on their journey to The Lonely Mountain. Set in the world of The Hobbit movie trilogy. Themes of loneliness, comfort, and just a sprinkle of romance. Characters include: Thorin, Gandalf, Bilbo, and my OC.
1. Chapter 1: Meeting in the Forest

"We've been in this wood for an age," complained Bilbo as he trudged along between Bifur and Bombur, trying to remember the last time he had a proper meal at a proper table. Rivendale, he decided. That was the last time. And that was long before the goblins, the wargs, the eagles, and climbing down that terrible precipice those mighty birds and deposited them onto. Now they were going through a forest, supposedly to get to a meadow, to get to the Mirkwood (another forest with worse conditions, though Bilbo was unsure how it could get much worse). His stomach rumbled about as he walked, reminding him of his original complaint that their troupe had not paused for breakfast that morning.

"Mr. Baggins," Gandalf called back. "It has been only three days. We have three more at least. You had better prepare yourself." True as his words were, even Gandalf himself had to admit that the sight of nothing but endless trees for days on end was wearisome. But he knew better than to complain. There was always the hobbit to do that for him. Besides, this wood was nothing compared to how dark and wearisome the Mirkwood would be.

Bilbo fell silent, half-listening to the tired chatter of the dwarves around him, half-wishing for the comforts of the Shire. It was in this terribly grumpy mood that the company met another traveler on their path.

She had the good fortune to be on a horse, while their ponies had run off (or been captured, or eaten) long ago. As she approached their company, they saw she was some sort of half-ling. A beautiful sort, Bofur would later remark (please note: she was not beautiful by tradtional dwarven standards, having no excess of facial hair, no overlarge forehead or nose, and no rotund belly or beefy arms). Her hair fell in deep brown waves to the middle of her back, covering much of her brown cloak. Her eyes were large and blue as the sky that none of them had seen for some time. Her skin was flawless porcelain and her nose dainty above full lips. Her royal blue skirts and emerald green riding vest made it clear that she either came from good breeding or good money. Her horse was surprisingly short, though not a pony, but a stallion. She reigned in the horse right in front of Thorin, who was leading the group, and dismounted in a swirl of skirts and thud of riding boots.

Gandalf, appearing not the least surprised to see this woman, greeted her warmly. "Ah, Miss Noralee. I hope we find you in good health. How is your dear father?"

"Not very well, I'm afraid. But it does more good for me to be away than to stay and remind him of what is passed." She inclined her head at the wizard and turned toward the dwarves. "I had heard you were with traveling with new companions these days."

"Allow me to present to you the company of Thorin Oakenshield," he proclaimed and began to point. "Mr. Bilbo Baggins, Bofur, his brother Bombur, their cousin Bifur, Dwalin, his brother Balin, the brothers Ori, Dori, and Nori, Oin and his brother Gloin, the brothers Fili and Kili, and of course their uncle, Thorin Oakenshield himself."

In near unison, the thirteen dwarves bowed saying, "At your service."

Bilbo, left standing awkwardly as the others bowed added, "Uh, oh yes. Me as well. Your service." He waved his hand dismissively.

Gandalf was already continuing the introductions. "...company, this is Princess-"

"That part isn't entirely necessary, if you don't mind," the woman interrupted as chatter broke out among the dwarves.

The wizard looked about. "Very well, if it was to be kept a secret, it is out now in any case." He continued, "Princess Noralee Stoneheart of the forest nymphs."

She gave a defeated bow. "At your service."

"Princess of the nymphs?" asked Bofur.

"What's a nymph?" Bilbo said.

"Stone-Stoneheart?" said Ori.

Noralee rolled her eyes to Gandalf, trying to convey that this was precisely what she liked to avoid. He gave her no notice.

Gloin turned to Bilbo. "They're little fairies that live in nature. Very flighty things."

With a proud toss of her head, Noralee corrected him. "Not all of us, and not so very flighty."

"Awful tall for a fairy," Dwalin growled.

"Awful inquisitive for dwarves," she responded quickly, then thought better of it and took pity on their curiosity. "My mother was human."

Thorin had been quiet through the short exchange, absorbing as much information about this pretty stranger as possible. Having the princess of the forest nymphs with them could certainly help his company make it through the woods. As long as no forest elves contested her, of course. But his men were already offering her accidental insult. "Princess, is there any way we can help you?" He locked eyes with her for the first time, noticing how they sparkled with a mesmerizing inner light. No wonder his dwarves were blabbering at her like fools. _Maybe she is part siren_, he considered.

He was not as tall as Dwalin, but still tall for a dwarf, and just a smidge taller than her. Standing only three feet in front of the would-be king, she could see the sincerity in his offer. Sincerity she was not used to. Mostly, male creatures offered to help her for hope of gaining her power, influence, or beauty as their own trophy. These dwarves (and hobbit) seemed honest enough, and were certainly blunt. "Noralee is fine. I rather dislike titles. I hope I may call you Thorin." When he politely inclined his head, she continued. "I am journeying with no particular destination. I only wish to go far, see many lands. I must confess, however that I had heard whispers of your quest when I was searching for Gandalf." She glanced at the wizard. "I had hoped you might allow me to travel with your company, at least for part of your journey." She cast her eyes to each dwarf and hobbit, making them each see her hope before what she was sure would be swift rejection. Dwarves were known for their acute suspicion of strangers. Looking to Thorin once more, she caught his satisfied smile. He had already wanted her to join!

Thorin turned to his troupe. "A vote is in order," he declared. "All in favor of allowing Noralee to accompany us, say aye."

A chorus of assents echoed loudly through the forest.

"And opposed?" Thorin asked.

Silence.

"Then it is settled." Thorin caught Gandalf's nod of approval. So, we finally see eye-to-eye, thought Thorin.

"This is wonderful!" Noralee hugged each dwarf, and Bilbo in turn, to the delight of them all, and finished with a kiss on the cheek of Thorin.

Slightly flustered by the affection, but renewed with enthusiasm, the group of now sixteen made their way through the forest.

"Oy, Noralee. Do you have any food?"


	2. Chapter 2: Dancing in the Firelight

It turned out to be the best day of the trip so far. Warm and dry, the company of thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, one nymph, and a wizard set up camp in a clearing near the base of the mountains. With the threat of wargs long behind them, there was no danger in their roaring campfire and raucous enjoyment. Bofur made stew for the lot of them while the others pulled logs and boulders around the fire. Gandalf stood and addressed the group, now happily engrossed in the evening meal. "It has been a fine day of safe travel and will be a safe night as well, I wager. I have business to attend to elsewhere, so tonight I shall leave you in the capable hands of Miss Noralee," he stopped, looking around with the others. "Where is Noralee?"

She stepped from the forest into the light of the campfire. "Just scouting about the area. We do indeed appear to be safe here, Mr. Gandalf." She half bowed and took a seat, squeezing in between Oin and Gloin. Kili and Fili, both of whom had purposely saved a seat on the ends of their log, exchanged a dissatisfied glance.

"Excellent. I shall catch up with you in a few days time." Without any further goodbyes, Gandalf vanished into the woods.

"Well, that was abrupt," said Bilbo while picking mysterious lumps out of his stew.

Dori shrugged. "Wizards."

As the group finished their meal, Kili jumped up. "How about a song?"

Fili popped up next to his brother. "A merry song!"

Soon enough the dwarves were pulling out instruments. Oin had a trumpet, Bofur a flute, Bombur beat his belly like a drum, several pulled out fiddles, and others slapped their knees. Even Bilbo clapped along. As the men began their song, Noralee began to dance with quick steps around the fire. Everyone watched as she twirled and whirled, prancing and stomping to the beat of the songs. She danced right over to Kili, hands outstretched and pulled him with her. He was all too glad to have the chance to be near her, holding her hand and waist and letting her guide him in spirited steps. They spun around a time or two before she went and pulled Fili into the dance. She repeated this time and again until the only ones left sitting were Bilbo, who claimed wholeheartedly that he could not dance, and Thorin, who politely declined. The rest ran around the camp, twisting and swinging through each other's arms and ending by holding hands in a large circle coming together in the center and going apart again. At the end of three songs, everyone collapsed back down, sighs of contented exhaustion ringing throughout the group.

Thorin then withdrew a miniature harp from his cloak. His fingers moved deceptively delicately over the tiny strings, causing the most soothing, peaceful melody to pour out. The song wound around the men in an easy, quiet fashion, calming everyone into a wistful, dreamy state of mind. Noralee rose once more and began to dance. She moved slowly this time, bending to the rhythm of the song. She turned, her body moving as smoothly as water flowing down a silent stream. Her steps were intricate circles as she moved around the fire, seeming as elemental as the flames, as ethereal as the shadows it flickered on the ground. She became the earth, became nature, as she danced like water, like fire, like shadows, and like wispy smoke billowing through the sky. To watch her was to be mesmerized entirely, drawn into the spell her dance was weaving.

Slowly, Bilbo and the dwarves drifted to sleep, soothed by Thorin's soft music and Noralee's hypnotizing movements. When everyone else was asleep, she went to Thorin. "Your song was beautiful." She reached for his hand and drew him up.

"Your dance as well."

"No one is watching. Will you dance with me now?" In the firelight her eyes was sunset on the sea. He found that he, too, had been entranced by her. Though he had no reason to trust her so soon after meeting, he was not capable of denying her wish.

Thorin wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close against him, and securing her other hand in his. He led her in slow, easy steps around the dying fire. It had been too long since last he had danced, longer still since he had held a beautiful woman. He felt entirely at peace, but he knew he should not let down his guard around a stranger so easily. He had not realized one could be lonely when surrounded by other dwarves, but with Noralee in his arms, Thorin knew that he had indeed been lonely. Of course, he was without family or close friends, save Balin, and it had only been over the past few years that he had met most others in his company. He was the one they all looked to; he wasn't allowed the luxury of any weakness, least of all loneliness. Maybe the other dwarves would have understood, being fairly alone themselves, but he was their leader. He was made to be the strong one. The one they could all depend on. No, he should not trust a stranger, but he couldn't help feeling less lonely with her.

Comforted by Thorin's presence, Noralee could finally relax. She had been worried the dwarves would not trust her, but they welcomed her freely. It was more than she could have hoped for. She had felt so alone for too long, even before leaving home. There, all she did was remind her poor father of her mother, dead long ago. The old man was likely dying, and though he loved his daughter, Noralee knew he could no longer stand to see her. He would never say so, of course, but she could see it in his eyes. She only added to his burden. Leaving home had been far less for herself than it had been for him. For if he did indeed die, the first act of her people would be to call her back to reign. It made no sense to leave when her people needed her, but her father needed peace. She could at least give him that much.

She wrapped her arms around Thorin's neck and stopped swaying entirely. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, hugging him to her.

Surprised, but certainly willing to hug her, Thorin held her close. He realized then that he wasn't sure which of them had needed comfort more. The thought made him hold her just a little tighter before letting go. He watched her turn and walk into her tent, wondering how he could have come to such peace at the hands of a stranger.


	3. Chapter 3: Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

**Thanks for reading! The story is complete as it stands, and to be honest, I'm probably never going to write any more of it. But at one time, I had plans to continue the story and make Noralee a shadier character that eventually betrays the company. So, if you would like to read the little bit I had written to begin that idea, here it is. **

Chapter 3: Remembering in the Night

Daybreak brought with it a thick and oppressive heat. Much haste was made with a small breakfast of forest berries and cram before the dwarves set out into the cooler shade deep in the woods. Noralee walked along amidst the dwarves, leading her horse which she had allowed to be laden with the company's supplies. She found they were a cheery bunch, even under the growing heat of the day. They sang merry songs of gold and great victory, of old battles, and of legends. They told her of their errand, the fortune that awaited them, and the dreadful guardian of their long ago home. It was lovely to be included, but Noralee knew that dwarves are not trusting by nature, and thought it strange that they would tell her their secrets.

Bilbo thought it odd, as well. He heard Balin tell Noralee about the hidden door, the prophecies of old, the heirloom key, and the deadline of Durin's day, but he did not know why. Certainly there didn't seem to be anything dishonest about the nymph, but why had he told her? Why had any of them? Dwarves are from the far edge of the Wild. Simple country folk like hobbits, if they remember the tales of their elders, know that there are other folk in the world, far before you cross into the Wild, that can deceive with only a look. These folk seem trustworthy, honest, and decent as a lure to evil doers that would seek to harm them. It is a clever trap, one used often by robbers of men, fairies, and other creatures of skillful deceit. Had Bilbo truly wracked his brain as to why he felt wary of Noralee, he might have remembered these tales and warned the others. As it happened, he put his odd feelings down to poor digestion and lack of proper meals. _If distrustful dwarves accept her into their midst, then so shall I,_ he thought. _After all, they did the same with me._


End file.
